


Pastel Hearts

by Void (EroEmo)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternative Universe - 80s, Fluff and Humor, Getting to Know Each Other, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Alternating, Racist Language, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, young mchanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 14:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14114148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EroEmo/pseuds/Void
Summary: School is one of those strange things which remain the same, like, everywhere. This one isn't an exception in Hanzo's mind. Preps, nerds and jocks, all of these dumb groups present. There is even a local gang, it seems. However, he cannot comprehend why they're called "Pretty Boys" and why one of them took a particular interest in his person.Does it spell trouble?Or in other words: "Hey, sorry my friends were rude to you but would you mind if we became friends because you seem pretty OK and I also don't want you to feel lonely in here?" kind of AU with Hanzo as a new kid.





	Pastel Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I put "racist language" in the warnings because some characters use racist slurs and don't act friendly towards Hanzo, however it's nothing explicit or violent. Beside that, everything is sweet and fluffy, even unrealistically so - but hey, everyone needs a bit of happiness in life, ay?
> 
> Beta by [try_reset](https://archiveofourown.org/users/technorat/pseuds/try_reset)!

The grass was incredibly green, as if somebody just painted it and added a layer or two of varnish to make it stand out. The same thing applied to all of the houses, the whole neighbourhood a mixture of pastel colors and whites, tiles, doors and window frames as a finishing touch to this candy sweet composition straight out of the American Dream.

It made him sick to the bone.

His mother didn’t seem to mind the view, she actually looked quite content with it. It was all clean and neat, and that was everything she wished for in their new place. Father didn’t have any expectations; he chose this place because it was convenient. Close to the city, he said. It’s not like he would be home often, anyway. 

Hanzo knew better than that. 

He knew that seeing his father would be a rare event. It’s been like that for about five years now. Why would it change? There was no reason for that. Not to mention his family wasn’t rather prone to making irresponsible or illogical decisions.

They were practical. Hardworking. Determined to achieve their goals.

His father’s was to impress his coworkers, to show he was a valuable employee. His mother wanted to support her husband and not make him ashamed of his family.

His own goal was to make his parents and the rest of family members proud. For now he was stuck in high school so the only thing he could do was to study, and maybe take extracurricular activities here and there.

He couldn’t complain much.

In this goal he had a wide range of choices, he could either pursue a somewhat lucrative career after graduation or attend a prestigious university. All options were up to him, as long as it didn’t bring shame or embarrassment into his family.

However, as much as he hated this selfish part of himself, he wanted something more from life.

He was sixteen, usually at the top of his class when it came to grades. When he took extra classes, he succeeded in them. He was always able to earn some respect in his classmates.

He was sixteen with no friends. Either because of those two (three, if current one counted) moves or because of other, usually more shallow reasons. He had approximately zero experience in activities people around his age engaged into. He was an outsider, an outcast of some kind.

Hanzo sighed and took a box with his belongings to his new home, to the beige building identical with every other one on this street. 

Most of his stuff was already inside, ready to be unpacked, but he had a few things he was afraid to loose because of someone else’s stupidity or carelessness.

The house smelled like fresh paint and mint drops. He didn’t think it was possible but it made him sick even more.

His mother didn’t seem to mind the scent, no. She was too preoccupied with planning what to put where to even notice it, probably. Hanzo sighed again, heading upstairs. The smaller bedroom was now his own, as far as he remembered from brief talk with his father.

The bigger bedroom was for his parents, obviously. There was also a small bathroom and a room with yet undecided purpose. Either a large storage, home office or a bedroom for guests. Not that they had many of these, anyway.

It could also be Genji’s room, if he decided to come and spend some time with the family, too. He didn’t seem too eager, though. The last time he entered Shimada’s household was maybe about three years ago. He always sent card for Christmas but never came himself. Too preoccupied with school, he explained.

Sure, whatever. Nobody really cared whether he was present or not. As long as the family name was on pedestal because of him, no one minded this lack of touch.

Hanzo entered his new room, put the box on the bed and opened the window, sickeningly green grass greeting him from the small yard below. It was completely empty, flowerbeds waiting to be taken care of.

He looked around the room, already thinking about the arrangement of furniture. It was, in the end, somewhat an important task and currently the only thing he was able to do.

It was strong in him, the need to do something,  _ anything.  _ He despised fooling around. He associated it with uselessness and this trait was more than unwelcome in this family. 

So he tried everything to avoid it, just not to be  _ useless. _

“Son, come here for a moment!”

“Coming!”

 

\-----

 

His first day of school shaped up well.

A bunch of kids waved at him cheerfully as they were riding their bikes down the street, backpacks swinging on the sides as they were pedalling with all strength they had.

It was a nice way to start the day, Hanzo thought as he headed to the street on the right, his own school now only a few minutes away.

He showed no anxiety as he was introduced to the class, unimpressed expression on his features as he sat down and focused on the lesson’s topic.

He survived the class, which was good. Later breaks only assured him he was rather safe as people around showed no to little interest in him. He could eat his lunch in peace, brown eyes of his lazily wandering all over cafeteria and students in it.

Most of the people were white. Not that it was shocking, really.

You get used to not seeing familiar faces when you live long enough in states. 

Only during English literature he earned a few contemptuous glares, surprisingly from the group of girls sitting in the back of the class. They were laughing about something as he was approaching them, wanting to take a seat nearby.

Apparently it was a mistake because one of said girls, the one in the pastel pink jumper, grimaced at him. The rest followed her, almost involuntarily mimicking her expression.

Not that he could do anything about it. When he was younger, Hanzo wished he could do something with his face. With his skin color. But now, he just got used to it and everything it brought with itself.

“Hey, slopehead, move yourself, I can’t see a thing!” a girl from behind said with an enormously squeaky voice. 

Hanzo gritted his teeth and obediently turned his head, wondering how short a gal behind him must be since he himself wasn’t tall at all.

It was a mean thing to think but he wasn’t the one calling new acquaintances names out loud. 

The bell rang and the mass of human bodies headed to the door, the literal ocean of heads and legs flooding the main hallway.

It was a warm spring day. Freshmen were taking their bicycles or walking with friends. The older students seemed to fancy cars or bikes, only a few of them going by foot.

Such a simple thing as going home, or wherever, could tell pretty much about other people’s characters and wealth.

From a simple observation Hanzo deduced that the rudest guys always had cool looking vehicles. If it was black, it meant the guy was a douchebag but with enough learned manners to hide his flaws when necessary.

Bicycles either meant simplicity and humbleness or poverty and possibility of becoming a douchebag of some kind under certain circumstances.

No matter where, high schools were mostly the same. Different locations and faces, same schemas of behaviour. Every school had its stars, its unwritten king and queen of halls. Its own pack of jocks. Its nerds and smaller groups of weirdos.

High school wasn’t a certain place in a certain city. It was a type of a steno-social and he was that less fortunate, bouncing just on a lower margin of tolerance.

But who he was to question the demands of society, when there were more  _ mundane  _ issues.

For example that group standing in the very center of the sidewalk.

Hanzo wondered why they put so much effort to make his day worse. He didn’t really recognize any of the guys’ faces, so it was very unlikely they were in the same class or maybe even a grade.

The blond one made quick finger guns as a car with girls passed them by, passengers giggling and waving at him. The guy with mullet hairstyle cheered at them, whereas the rest two waved at gals, now disappearing behind the corner.

Only then did Hanzo notice everyone in the group had a leather jacket with the same name studded on the back.

_ Pretty Boys. _

Apparently a local, kind of laughable in his opinion, version of either a boyband or a gang. He wasn’t sure which version sounded worse.

As he tried to go past them, his head proudly raised, the mullet guy sneered at him.

“Look who we got here!” he grinned unwelcomingly, the blond already blocking his way up. “What’s your name, little fella?”

“Shimada.”

“Ah, right! The new kid from Iowa,” said the boy in the glasses, Hanzo somewhat recognizing his features. 

Maybe they had one class together, after all. Or they met during lunch break. Either way, that awareness wasn’t helpful one bit. 

“Is that so,” the mullet guy approached him, now all four boys surrounding him in a form of a circle. “I believe you don’t know much about how things go around here, do ya?” He sneered once again, the blond chuckling right behind Hanzo’s back.

“Not really,” he answered truthfully, squeezing his bag tighter. “Mind enlightening me?”

“You see, my name is Aiden and these are my boys. Victor,” the blond guy behind him patted his shoulder. “Terry,” the four eyes smiled at him. “And Jesse.”

Hanzo looked up at him, trying to briefly figure out what kind of person Jesse was. Aiden came off as bossy and bully-like. Victor was his sidekick, while Terry seemed rather friendly or at least not prone to any aggressive behaviour. 

Meanwhile, Jesse didn’t say a word this whole time. He was just standing idly on the side, sunglasses hiding his eyes from Hanzo. It was infuriating, in a way.

“We are the upper crust of this school,” Aiden stated, bringing Hanzo’s attention back at himself. “And there is this unwritten rule that when we’re doing our thing, nobody is daring to interrupt us.”

“Doing your thing?”

“ _ Looking pretty,  _ you dumbass,” that sugar coated tone of his reminded Hanzo of the houses in this neighbourhood, all painted with awfully pastel colors.

With barely hidden irony and taunt, he asked:

“How can I avoid interrupting you in the future?”

“Good question, my little fella.”

Aiden took a step forward, his and Hanzo’s faces now only inches apart. The air around smelled like pricey cologne and the cheap bubblegum, making Hanzo wanting to vomit.

He expected a punch in the face. Or in the guts. Instead, he received a solid yet on a border of being considered friendly, slap on both his cheeks.

“See you around, little fella,” Aiden smiled, or maybe rather smirked at him, at the same time making a quick gesture with his hand.

The rest of the group followed their leader without a word, Hanzo finding a sudden emptiness around him soothing. He was about to go his own way, when one of the boys turned around.

Jesse smiled at him and waved his hand, sunglasses still hiding his eyes. Hanzo wasn’t sure what to think of such a behaviour so he tentatively raised his own hand in a friendly gesture. 

_ He’s the tallest, _ Hanzo noted in his mind, a few larger steps enough for Jesse to rejoin with his pack. 

However, he still didn’t know what to think about this particular  _ pretty boy.  _ He was an enigma. 

Hanzo hated those almost as much as a cotton candy sweetness pouring on him from every part of these suburbs he had no choice but to live in.

 

\-----

 

“Hey, how about going to the arcades after math?”

“You kiddin’ me? I can’t skip history again, my dad will  _ kill me. _ ”

_ I bet he won’t but sure I will if you don’t shut up, Janet,  _ Hanzo added in mind, biting into his lunch.

It’s not like he was eavesdropping. He was peacefully minding his own business, trying his best to ignore annoying chatters by the table behind him.

Amazing thing it was, his bad luck in that kind of things. 

Taking seats in front of short foul-mouthed gals. Bumping into pastel gang. Being chased by neighbours’ terrier on his way home. Almost causing a minor accident today on his way school because of levity of local kids. And now this, involuntarily listening to idle babbling of a group of freshmen.

He didn’t even know if the girl’s name was Janet. It just sounded white enough for her attitude, was all.

As he was about to stand up and head to the literature class, somebody abruptly took a sit by the table. It turned out to be a freshly made acquaintance from just yesterday.

“Mind if I take a minute or two?” Hanzo was taken aback by both his tone and voice in general. 

He didn’t know what he was assuming but for it wasn’t something so… deep. Warm. Gentle.

“What’s the matter? Have I unconsciously interrupted you and the rest of boys in  _ doing your thing _ ?” 

Hanzo carefully took his bag from the ground, preparing for the possible escape. No Jesse’s friends in sight didn’t mean Jesse himself wasn’t able to cause harm if he wished. He didn’t look particularly scrawny. Actually, he seemed quite well-build.

“Nah, nothin’ like that,” Jesse removed sunglasses from his nose, hanging them on his t-shirt. “I just wanted to talk a bit about yesterday if you don’t mind.”

Hazel eyes of his foreshadowed no danger or bad intentions. Hanzo relaxed in his chair, putting an annoying strand of hair behind his ear.

Now, when nothing was hidden from his sight, he could tell Jesse appeared as the most friendly in the pack. His crooked smile wasn’t prejudiced as Aiden’s or Victor’s. It was charming, in a way.

“The thing is, the boys treated you a bit poorly and I wanted to apologize.” Hanzo’s eyes widened, a shock conveyed on his features as Jesse continued. “Yup, I’m sorry. They probably aren’t but I wanted you to know that at least I am.”

“Why?”

This was suspicious. No one is usually selfless to such degree, not in high school.

“Not everyone is a bad guy, ya know,” his slender fingers took a comb out from the jacket’s inner pocket, his hands deftly smoothing hair as he continued. “Besides, I was there, too. New place, new faces and no idea if they will accept or ostracize you.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m partially Latino and I wasn’t even ten when we’d moved here,” Jesse said steadily, putting the comb back in the pocket. “All I knew back then narrowed to ‘be nice and hope they’ll be nice, too’.”

Hanzo smirked at that, knowing this attitude all too well. 

He extended his hand, a brief smile on his features. “Thanks, Jesse.”

“No need,” he answered, taking his hand and shaking it firmly, crooked grin brightening his features. “Full name’s Jesse McCree, by the way.”

“Shimada. Hanzo Shimada.”

“Japanese, huh?” both of them stood up as bell announced the end of the lunch break, the idea of upcoming class nothing but dreadful. “See you around, I guess?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Jesse nodded, putting his sunglasses back on and starting a relaxed walk towards the exit. Hanzo noticed that everyone seemed to move aside, creating enough space for him to freely walk by. 

_ Pretty Boys  _ sure were respected by school community. 

Or maybe rather feared?

He wasn’t sure what measures they could take to make other people do what they wanted and he was even less sure he wanted to find that one out.

For now the only thing he needed to know was whether his literature teacher would be bragging about his college achievements as he did yesterday or not. A positive answer meant another useless hour spent on self-education and Hanzo was a bit icky about it.

He didn’t dislike learning stuff by himself. It was actually kind of a pleasing thing to do. The problem laid in the very matter.

Because what’s the point in the existence of school if it can’t teach you stuff it is supposed to teach you about?

 

\-----

 

His mother voice reached his ears as she was bustling in the kitchen:

“Son, go open the door!”

He hurried there and was mildly surprised to see McCree.

“Mind if I come in?” Jesse said with that playful tone of his, obligatory sunglasses hung on his shirt. 

Hanzo took a step aside and letting him inside, simultaneously answering his mom that’s it’s only an acquaintance of his that paid a visit.

“ _Acquaintance,_ jeez. Isn’t _a_ _friend_ an easier thing to say?” He buttonholed, navigating himself to the back of the house without a trouble.

Hanzo sighed, silently following him and quickly grabbing some juice from the kitchen counter alongside two glasses from the shelf. Even though this wasn’t Jesse’s first visit in Shimada’s house, he still did not come around to exactly explain how he got their address. Hanzo had a feeling he would never know and frankly, it annoyed him a bit. “I choose my words carefully, Jesse.”

“You sure do,” McCree nodded, pouring himself a glass as soon as he sat down on the porch, only table between him and Hanzo. “Studying up?”

Hanzo glanced at his notes scattered all around the decorative tea table. “There is a test on Friday, just reminding you,” he replied casually, pouring himself a glass, too. “I’d be dumb for  _ not  _ studying up.”

“Are you calling me dumb right now?” Jesse looked at him, anticipation on his features. 

He answered, deadpan:

“You said that.”

McCree snorted, some small strands of hair falling down his face and ruining that perfectly combed mass. Alongside with that crooked smile and showing fanged teeth, usual leather jacket and sunglasses to top the appearance up, Jesse looked quite... delinquently.

Like a member of a typical gang, not that mere parody he actually belonged to.

“Anyway, what are you doing here? It’s not like we’re best buddies or anything,” Hanzo noted, taking a sip, his eyes studying Jesse’s body language.

McCree acted as if he was wondering, purposely stalling the answer. It was driving him slightly crazy, such an idle and laid-back attitude.

“I’m checking on you, is all.”

“What am I Jesse, nine?”

“On a scale one to ten, pretty much,” McCree grinned, his mouth lopsided and fangs showing. Hanzo groaned, his neighbour’s dog taking an interest in a sudden, lengthy sound.

“God give me strength to deal with him, I beg you,” Hanzo muttered and rolled his eyes, seeing how Jesse is not only still grinning but now also making finger guns at him.

“No, but really, long hair suits you.”

“Get out.”

“Look, I clearly see you ain’t a sociable guy and loneliness is shit. You can either try your luck and go look for some other  _ acquaintances  _ or expand your tolerance a bit and deal with me. Choice is yours,” he said innocently, hands splayed out.

Hanzo groaned again and then sighed, counting down in his mind. He knew Jesse was right. It didn’t make things easier for him, though.

“To speak the truth, I have a business with you,” Jesse admitted after a while, his hazel eyes watching a hopping sparrow on the lawn. ”Terry said you’re some sort of a math genius and let’s say Ms. Kringle doesn’t appreciate the current level of my knowledge.”

“Couldn’t you bring this straight away?” It was truly amusing, that… way of being. It was beyond Hanzo’s comprehension.

“Well, sorry for liking engaging in small talks once in a while, Mr. Straight To Business Shimada.”

He rolled his eyes again, but smiled this time, taking yet another sip from his glass. Jesse focused his gaze on him, sparrow long gone from the neatly mowed lawn.

“So, what do you need to know, Mr. Small Talk?”

 

\-----

 

It was a pretty summer afternoon. 

The sun was shining brightly, bringing warmth and excitement to the cold and dark school hallways. There were about two weeks left until summer vacation and everyone literally squirming in their seats, desperately looking forward that longed-for relish.

“You seem to blend in nicely, Shimada.”

He was not particularly fond of his literature teacher at the beginning and that feeling didn’t change much during past month and half. The only thing that actually differed was a respect for his actual knowledge in some areas.

It was his last class for today and he remained the last person in the classroom beside the teacher. The rest was long gone, hurrying home or somewhere else Hanzo didn’t bother to think about.

“Thank you, sir.”

It was supposed to be a short talk over his essay but apparently Mr. Morrison felt the need to mention other issues as well. He probably couldn’t find much talk-material in the paper itself. Hanzo was always taking an excessive care to write his assignments as neatly and profoundly as possible.

“Regarding your paper, I don’t think there is much I can say. You did good on this one. Keep that up in the next year.”

“I will, sir.”

The man smiled at him, encouragingly, and expanded his hand as he stood up. Hanzo shook it, firmly, meeting his teacher’s gaze. There was no need to tell him to keep up with his present level of work. It was basically engraved in his bones by this point.

He took his bag and was about to follow his peers in exiting school, while something caught his eye.

Or maybe rather someone.

“Howdy, Han!”

“Why am I not surprised to see you?” His tone was a mixture of amusement, fatigue and something he couldn’t quite name.

“Because you got fond of me already?” Jesse chirped, smile crooked and eyebrows wiggly.

“Go to Hell,” he was about to turn on his heel and go straight to the exit door, not even thinking of giving McCree a single glance over his shoulder.

His plan got ruined by a grabby hand, firmly holding his right arm, Jesse’s whole body incredibly close to his own. Probably closer than it had ever been.

Hanzo grimaced.

“You smoke?” He never really gave it a thought but now, when McCree was only inches away, he could clearly smell cigarettes on him.

“Occasionally, yeah,” he admitted, pulling away a bit to look at Hanzo curiously. “Problem?”

“Not my business, just dislike the smell.”

McCree didn’t really let Hanzo go but navigated them both to the exit door, bright sun hurting their eyes as they stepped out of a shady hallway. Jesse instantly put his sunglasses on, meanwhile Hanzo’s hand had do for the time being.

“Gotta tell you, you’re a marvelous tutor.”

“Is that so?”

Hanzo’s eyes accommodated to the light pretty quickly, now his vision sharp as it should. They were about to pass the parking lot, three silhouettes looming in a distance.

“Yup, Ms. Kringle had hard time believing I didn’t cheat!” Jesse exclaimed proudly, a grin on his face. “And that’s all thanks to you and those three weeks!”

Hanzo rolled his eyes but smiled nevertheless, such a praise an unusual thing in his life. It felt nice. It really did.

Silhouettes turned out to be the rest of  _ Pretty Boys,  _ Aiden waving at McCree to supposedly come with them. He waved him back and look at Hanzo, tender smile flourishing on his features.

“See you later, Han.”

He nodded in the response, Jesse already heading to his boys. Hanzo sighed and turned around to the proper direction, the vision of the Wednesday afternoon spent solely on reading history papers already making him sick.

 

\-----

 

There was no need for his mom to pick him up since it was merely fifteen minutes on foot between their house and his school. However, it quickly became obvious why she picked him up anyway.

“I need to do the laundry. Can you please do groceries?”

It wasn’t like he could disagree.

“Sure, mother.”

She stopped by the local supermarket, giving him cash and a lengthy shopping list. Meanwhile, she herself headed to the laundromat nearby, wash apparently heavy on her arms.

He sighed as he entered the store, thinking which route through the alleys would be the most efficient. Hanzo wouldn’t really call himself a person who enjoyed shopping, no matter of what kind.

With his poor knowledge about the arrangement of products, it took him a good while to find things he knew his mother wanted specifically for herself, like some special kind of shampoo or a hair spray from a certain brand.

It was tiresome.

And as if that wasn’t enough, somebody called him just as he was looking for some spices. “Hey! Hanzo, right?”

It turned out to be one of  _ Pretty Boys,  _ the one with glasses.

“Terry, if I recall?”

“Yup,” Terry said, smiling, his hands casually hooked on his pockets. “Lookin’ for somethin’?”

“Marjoram.”

Terry took a quick glance at the whole shelf, squatted and took something out from the very bottom.

“Here you go,” he said with a friendly tone, handing him marjoram.

“Thanks?” That was suspicious at the very least.

Why was Terry talking with him so casually? Was it a trap? The school year ended barely an hour ago... What could have happened within such a short amount of time? Did he do something what upset Jesse’s pack?

“Chill dude. No one's gonna hurt you,” he said, adjusting his glasses, smile still on his face.

“Is that so? What made you change your mind about me?” Hanzo asked, a bit reluctantly, slowly heading his way and Terry following him. “Did I miraculously stop interrupting you on doing your thing?”

“Nah, it’s not that. I mean, sure, there was no reason for us to be mean to you last time, but the thing is--” Terry stopped as an elderly woman with a shopping cart blocked his way. “The thing is Jesse hangs out with you and he wouldn’t if you weren’t at least a bit cool.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t know about Aiden and Victor but personally, I have no issues so yeah, why not be kind?” Terry shrugged, hand extended in Hanzo’s direction.

He took it, wondering what kind of person Terry actually was. He couldn’t comprehend why somebody so nice was hanging out with douchebags.

Or maybe it was only his opinion, based solely on the first and quite unfortunate impression? Maybe those two  _ pretty boys  _ weren’t as bad as he accused them of?

“I think I need to thank McCree for working so hard on my image,” Hanzo joked with a solid bit of irony, his hand reaching for the milk in the fridge.

“Speak of the Devil!” Terry exclaimed, Hanzo following his line of sight.

Jesse walked in, sunglasses on and finger guns made in their direction. Terry did the same gesture, apparently it being some kind of an inside greeting.

“Howdy. You socializing?” McCree said, sounding amused, sliding his glasses back on his hair. “Maybe I should go out and leave you some privacy?”

“N’aw, man, no need. I gotta go back to work anyway.”

“You work here?” Hanzo asked, eyebrows raised in a surprised manner.

“Summer job, starting today.”

“Good luck, then!” McCree said cheerfully, patting Terry on an arm. “I’m hoping for some discounts from ya!”

“You wish!” Terry snorted, heading his way and waving them for the goodbye. Soon enough he disappeared behind the counter.

Hanzo took a peek at Jesse, his leather jacket untidily tied around his hips. Without it on, his whole build was perfectly visible.

And boy, was McCree in shape.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, Hanzo quickly taking his eyes off him. 

“Nothing, was wondering about your little battle with Ms. Kringle, is all.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” he beamed, hooking his arm around Hanzo. “Worry not, she has nothin’ on me! I passed to her discontent.”

Jesse chuckled as Hanzo rolled his eyes, smiling a bit himself, too. He really was glad about his tutoring having positive effects. Besides, seeing McCree focused on his task and without that laid-back facade was quite an experience itself.

“Speaking of which… What are your plans, summer-wise?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, slowly going to the checkout. “Maybe exercising, helping out in home, studying…”

“You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“It’s our last year in high school, Jesse. I’m not going to screw it up.”

“Have you ever screwed something like that up, though?”

“No, but-”

“Exactly,” Jesse pointed out, crooked smile once again appearing on his face. “You have to  _ chill,  _ Han. Got your mind off school for a while. It ain’t healthy to work so hard  _ and  _ so much.”

He had a point.

It didn’t change the fact Hanzo had little to none other options left as these were always limited either by his own fault or his parents’ wish.

“What are you up to on Friday?”

“Nothing, why?”

He started to put things out of the cart, McCree absentmindedly helping him with it.

“Come at my place. We’ll celebrate!”

“Huh? Celebrate what?” Hanzo gave him a puzzled look, Jesse smiling only brighter.

“One, your survival in new environment. Two, my math success. Three, your overall success,” Hanzo smiled coyly, the image of his report card still vivid in his mind. “Four, the beginning of summer.”

“I don’t know,” Hanzo admitted, taking out the last box from the cart. “Don’t you have plans already?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “Terry has a shift here, Aiden and Victor are going to the party at Meggie’s house, and I don’t feel like going with them. I’m in the mood for something less like…”

“Getting drunk?”

“I wanted to say like getting noisy but yeah, that kinda too.” Jesse grinned at him, Hanzo only sighing with a smile.

He paid for the groceries and headed to the parking lot, where his mother was probably already waiting for him. Jesse helped him with carrying stuff, five bags too many for Hanzo to carry all at once.

“So? What do you say?”

“Okay, fine.” Hanzo finally said, his mind wondering what his parents will think of this idea. “Where exactly is your place?”

“The very end of Pine Street, a house with a porch. Hard to miss,” Jesse answered, excitement somewhere in his tone. “So what do you say about seven?”

“Fine.”

 

\----

 

Jesse was in the middle of the shower when he heard the doorbell.

He quickly dried himself with a towel, putting on first things he grabbed on his way down. It appeared to be a red t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. There were troubles with getting into the latest but eventually he managed, almost tripping over his own legs just in front of the doors.

“Sorry you had to wait, I was showering,” he said with a smile, wet strands of hair poking into his eyes and blurring his vision. “Come, make yourself at home.”

He let Hanzo in, navigating him to the spacious living room cluttered with wooden boxes and weird decoration. It was a mixture of a hunter’s lodge and an old-fashioned living room, so he wasn’t really surprised his guest decided on a little sightseeing.

Meanwhile, he went back to the bathroom to dry his hair at least a bit, damp one still better than completely wet.

On his way back he snatched some drinks and food from the kitchen, placing it on a previously prepared (cleaned from papers and boxes) tea table.

“Your parents sure like hunting,” Hanzo noted, pointing out at the nice collection of knives.

“Nah, these are my uncle’s,” he answered, sitting on a couch next to his guest. “I live with him.”

“And where are your parents?”

“I’ve never met my dad and last time I checked, my mom was working in Dakota.”

Jesse shrugged, not really wanting to dig into that topic. It was not like he minded speaking about his parents. The thing was, that such talk didn’t count as the light one and today was supposed to be a cheery day, a celebration. Why to spoil that?

“Oh, sorry for asking.”

“That’s fine, Han,” he smiled at him, reaching out for two beers he brought from the kitchen. “So, let’s make a toast!”

“Are you sure your uncle won’t get mad at us for drinking?”

“He went with his friend on a cruise or something, he won’t be back till next week,” Jesse grinned, opening his beverage with a distinct  _ pscht  _ sound.

“You drink, you smoke, tell me you also do drugs and that will officially set you up for a ‘ _ what kids mustn’t do in high school’  _ example,” Hanzo snorted, opening his beer after a moment, too.

“Worry not. I ain’t that stupid,” he took a sip. “I actually want to live, you know.”

“So why do you smoke and drink, then?” Shimada asked with an amused tone.

“Because even if it’s killing me, it’s killing me slowly,” Jesse stated, firmly, glancing at Hanzo from behind his can. “And besides, it’s fun.”

“Not gonna judge,” Hanzo grimaced after taking a sip. “Okay, maybe a little. This shit is awful.”

“Haven’t you ever drunk beer before?” 

That thought was somewhat hilarious to him. Neither of them was at legal drinking age yet, sure, however Jesse couldn’t think of anyone in his life who actually waited that long. 

“Not really. Strict parents.” Hanzo answered bluntly, taking a deep breath and then yet another sip.

McCree nodded in understanding. 

Coming to think of it, Mr. and Mrs. Shimada seemed like that kind of parents, even though he never really met them. It was somewhat easy to conclude by just spending some time with their son. His behaviour, his gestures, his attitude… Everything was a small glimpse of the bigger picture.

“Want to try something different?” He offered, putting his almost empty beer can at the table. “We’ve got plenty of whiskey, some tequila and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen wine somewhere around here.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Jesse,” Hanzo replied, politely, smiling at him. “I appreciate the effort, but for now I don’t want to shock my stomach with more kinds of alcohol. I’ll stick to the beer, thanks.”

“Okay, then.”

McCree opened the huge bag of nachos, treating them Hanzo and laughing about his reaction to the flavor.

“You’re insane for eating that.”

“A tiny lil bit of jalape ñ o didn’t kill nobody,” Jesse laughed, stuffing his mouth with bunch of nachos. “Ah, that also reminded me!”

He quickly stood up and headed to the rack next to the small TV.

“It’s a perfect occasion to watch some classics!”

Hanzo gave him a puzzled look so he handled a VHS tape to him.

“ _ The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, _ ” Shimada read out loud. “Western?  _ You’re serious? _ ”

“Hey, that’s a goddamn classic!” Jesse opposed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’d never thought you like stuff like that,” Hanzo noted, handing him the VHS back.

“I’ll tell you a secret, Han,” he turned TV and player on, putting tape inside. “I’m a cowboy at heart.”

Jesse could swear that laughing Hanzo was one of the most brilliant things he had ever encountered. At first, it sounded like a chuckle. Then it bursted into open mouth laughter, Hanzo barely keeping himself from rolling off the couch.

McCree smiled at his friend, fondly, rolling his eyes as he sat down next to him and gave him a nudge in between ribs. Only then did he stop laughing, tears in corners of his eyes.

God, that confession did amuse him.

Not that it was a lie or that he personally minded that reaction, though. It was… cunning, in a way.

As the credits started to show up on screen, McCree hopped to the kitchen to snatch a few more beers. He already finished his and Hanzo might drink more during the film, you never knew.

 

 

By the end of the movie, just when  Tuco finds his gun empty, it turned out that he was quite right about Hanzo and him drinking more.

He himself drained four or even five cans in total, a feeling of a slight tipsiness quite distinctive. Not to mention Hanzo, who maybe was about to finish his third beer, but was apparently susceptible to get loaded.

Jesse had an impression that Shimada could blame his abstinence for not being  able to hold his liquor. However, he decided not to bring that up. His guest wasn’t probably in a state to properly discuss that and… neither was he.

All the snacks were gone by the time movie ended, three hours mere a blink of an eye. They remained in some sort of trance on the couch, the clock’s hands slowly reaching eleven and twelve.

“Okay, your movie taste isn’t that bad,” Hanzo spluttered surprisingly deftly. “Still, you don’t look as a fan.”

“What, do ya expect me to wear a cowboy hat?” Jesse sparred, Hanzo snorting obnoxiously loud. “It ain’t Texas.”

“I think I drank too much,” Hanzo said suddenly, his eyes wandering over empty cans at the table. “Did we seriously drain so many?”

He sounded so utterly shocked, Jesse couldn’t help but find that amusing.

“Han, it’s nothin’,” he reassured him, standing up and waiting for his vision to sharpen. “It’s an appetizer.”

Hanzo gave him a threatening glare, his blood suddenly colder under that two browns piercing through him.

The living room was dark, the TV and a single lamp somewhere in the hallway the only sources of light. Jesse suddenly felt heavy, weird gloominess seeping through all weird decorations on the walls.

The collection of knives. Old family photos in dusted frames. Bottles made out of colorful glass, some filled with liquids and some not. Cardboard and wooden boxes stood by the walls and windows. Papers and notes scattered literally everywhere. An old rack with books. Tattered couch and an armchair. A head of a deer. And so, so much more.

Every single thing, usually unharmful and as if nonexistent, now was  _ beaming  _ with some unspoken melancholy,  _ despair.  _ Jesse had never experienced anything like that before. Maybe it had something to do with his current state or with the hour, or even with both of those. Either way, he didn’t want to stay in that room any minute longer.

_ No wonder uncle went with Christiansens on that cruise,  _ he thought as he started to tug Hanzo’s baggy t-shirt.

“What?”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“Jesse,” Hanzo started, deadpan. “It’s almost  _ midnight _ . Where for the Heaven’s sake you want to go  _ now? _ ”

McCree shrugged. Hanzo groaned.

“C’mon, it’s gonna be fun!”

“What’s so fun in the suburbs late at night?”

Jesse took a minute or two to properly think his answer through.

“You forgot ‘bout somethin’, Han. It’s a night of first Friday of the summer break. People are either sleeping, working night shifts or partying,” he said, his hazel eyes trying to figure out what his guest might be thinking. “The streets are gonna be  _ desolated.  _ Have you ever wandered around a place, feeling like you’re the only one left alive?”

Hanzo shook his head, his eyes piercing through Jesse a little less than before.

“See? Let’s go. We gotta check some points off  _ What Hanzo had not done before  _ list tonight,” he grinned and tugged Shimada by his arm, the other boy letting himself being dragged until they reached the door.

“Wait.”

“Hm?”

“I guess it’s a bit chilly outside. I don’t have any jacket,” Hanzo admitted, a shadow of embarrassment and guilt quickly going through his features.

“Wait a sec,” McCree hopped to the upper floor, storming to his bedroom and then wardrobe.

He was back within a minute, something in his hands.

“Here ya go,” smile on his face as he handed Hanzo his denim jacket. “I hope it’ll do.”

Hanzo looked haltingly at the given article of clothing, trying it on after a longer while. Of course it was too big for him, Jesse not only taller but broader in shoulders, too.

What was surprising, though, it seemed to perfectly fit in biceps area. He was even prone to say it was slightly  _ too tight. _

Shimada sighed and then rolled up the sleeves, making it look as if he was wearing an oversized jacket on purpose. McCree had never seen such a quick transformation from “sloppy” to “trendy”.

“ _ God damn, _ ” he muttered, his eyes still on Hanzo.

“Did you say somethin’?”

“Nope,” Jesse offered yet another smile, opening the front door. “ _ Are you ready? Hey are you ready for this? _ ” His voice singsong, a shy grin on his face as he grabbed his leather jacket from the hanger.

“Is that  _ Queen _ ?”

“Finally someone who catches my references!” Jesse exclaimed cheerfully, leaving behind Hanzo and closing the door.

Pines Street could be considered an unimportant part of suburbs, no lamps in sight. Everything was swallowed by darkness, the crickets’ concert creating a unique atmosphere, cherished by so many on summer nights.

They reached Elm Street, finally one lonely lamp looming in a distance and attracting all sorts of bugs with its light. McCree wondered where they should go, none of possibilities better than the others.

He headed in whatever direction, Hanzo silently following him and apparently absorbing the spesh vibe of an empty street, usually filled with kids and their laughters, screams and so on. There was something to it, McCree admitted in mind, his gaze idly wandering over empty lawns and abandoned-looking houses.

A few lamps were visible down the pathway, creating a more friendly atmosphere. However, everything still had this  _ something,  _ something odd. Jesse couldn’t quite name the feeling, the whole world just seemed so… out of place.

As if reality was slightly altered and he knew that deep in his guts, but was not able to exactly point out  _ what  _ was so different.

It was simultaneously eerie and incredible.

_ I love it. _

Suddenly, he felt like swinging on the swing. It was an illogical urge but he couldn’t help it. So he ended up dragging Hanzo by his arm, hurrying him into the proper direction.

Soon enough they saw the playground, their destination.

Jesse sprinted to the swings without a thought, cheering like an excited six years old. Hanzo snorted, obnoxiously loud, taking a sit on a roundabout.

“I think we need to get you a knapsack and some cookies to share with the kids in your new class, Jesse,” he mocked, getting more comfortable by laying down. “They gonna love you.”

Jesse paid no mind to these jokes, currently being too preoccupied with trying to swing as high as possible. Then, when he thought he had reached a decent point, he jumped off. 

Surprisingly, he managed to land without tripping over or spraining anything.

Hanzo remained in the previous, unbothered position, his gaze clearly fixed on the night sky above and ignoring everything around him.

McCree saw a chance he couldn’t waste.

He sneaked up on his friend, silently yet firmly grabbing the metal handrail and then putting the whole roundabout in action with a brunt. Obviously, it resulted in Hanzo being thrown out on the ground and, judging by the low and lengthy groans, he was not glad about it.

Jesse barked a resonant laugh, slowly backing away as soon as he spotted murderous intentions in that brown eyes, now fixed on him and not the ground.

“McCree!” Hanzo shouted and so the chase around the playground began.

It was hilarious, in a way. 

Two tipsy teenagers running in the middle of the night on the playland, screaming and laughing as if they were careless children again.

Both of them were panting mere after few minutes, Hanzo seemingly more out of breath.

After a longer while he eventually gave up on pursuing McCree, the amount of consumed alcohol evidently influencing his motor skills.

Jesse smirked, his own ego a little fueled by the fact his own skills remained rather unbothered. Or at least not as much as Hanzo’s.

He turned on his heel, only to spot an old, effused tree right next to the spring rockers. He remembered that tree from the times he used to visit this playground as a young kid.

Victor used to come here, too. He was a horrible kid, always mocking others and picking fights. He would also throw other children’s toys and shoes onto that exact tree. If McCree recalled correctly, some of items had never returned to their owners.

Jesse felt an urge to go and check if some of the belongings were still up there, being stuck somewhere in between thick branches. The light from behind was rather weak but he paid it no mind.

He stood on one of the spring riders, trying to reach the tree when suddenly, without a warning, he felt a bounce and the ground disappeared from under his feet.

Within seconds his torso and face happened to find the ground again, dull pain spreading through his whole body.

“Looks like you weren’t ready to ride that cock,” Hanzo said with a smirk, hovering over him.

McCree looked at him strangely and then at the spring rocker his leg was rested on. 

It was painted to resemble a rooster. 

Only then did he burst into a sheer laughter despite his body still aching a bit from the fall.

“And you said  _ I  _ have a horrible sense of humor,” Jesse managed to say in between laughing and catching his breath, taking Hanzo’s extended hand to stand up.

Shimada only shrugged in a response, a mischievous smile playing on his features.

“How’s that you barely joke on a daily basis, Han?”

Now they both were occupying swings, slowly moving back and forth, night air pleasantly soothing.

Hanzo didn’t reply in an instant, looking down at his shoes for a moment or two. McCree couldn’t see his face, long dark hair covering it all.

Was he sad? Was he angry? 

“We’re practical,” he finally answered with an emotionless voice,  _ we  _ probably referring to him and his parents. “A sense of humor isn’t. No sense in developing it.”

“I’d disagree,” Jesse opposed, firstly fixing his gaze at his friend and then moving it on a night sky above them. Thanks to that small lamp nearby, it was hard to see anything in it. “It’s pretty damn crucial, if you’d ask me.”

Hanzo didn’t reply to that, his own eyes now unfocused, just looking into darkness in a distance.

They were sitting like that, in a silence, for a couple of minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. Not in Jesse’s opinion. It made him feel at ease, just  _ being _ and sharing some space with Shimada.

It was a rare thing, to be able to just be.

Not required to talk or act, or behave.

Just exist.

“I’m cold,” Hanzo stated after some time, Jesse seeing goosebumps on his pale arms in that dim light.

“Yea, let’s get movin’,” he said, standing up.

Hanzo sighed and stood up as well, shoving his hands in the pockets of McCree’s borrowed jacket.

“Now where?”

McCree was wondering about that himself. All the cool places to hang out were closed and all things considered, he didn’t feel like checking them out in the first place. It was the middle of the summer night, an opportunity to see some areas in a different perspective.

The only obstacle was he had no clue what places they should give a shot.

While he was immersed in thought, Hanzo asked:

“What’s that?”

Jesse looked up at where he was pointing at, dim bluish or maybe greenish light illuminating in a distance, black shape of the cross outstanding in it.

He smiled, patting his friend’s shoulder.

“Our next destination.”

Hurry was not necessary so they strolled down the street, lamps more frequent now. The houses seemed dead and abandoned, white light blinding them for a longer while.

It felt weird, walking like that, on a full display for everybody to see. Not that there was anyone starring from the windows. Jesse was almost perfectly sure there were only him and Hanzo awake in within range of few miles.

And a dog, apparently.

It appeared out of nowhere, its head popping out of the shadow from behind the dumpster. The rest of its body followed soon after, small paws mincing in their direction, tail wagging.

“Aww, looks like Angela’s dog has run away again,” McCree said, fondly, squatting and giving their new companion a pat.

“Who is Angela?” Hanzo asked, suspicion in his voice. He bowed, reaching carefully to the dog. 

It seemed harmless, tongue out and eyes closing in delight as Jesse was rubbing its tiny head and behind the ears.

“A friend of mine, just graduated,” he answered with a raised brow, taking Hanzo’s hand and placing it on a dog’s back. “This little fella is so small he often squeezes himself through fence and goes on an adventure,” he said, smiling, giving the dog one last rub before leaving that up to his friend only.

He already seemed fond of the small mass of black fur, warm smile quirking on his lips as he continued on petting.

_ How cute. _

“Shouldn’t we return him?”

“Nah, he’ll eventually go home. He always does,” McCree answered, trying to stop himself from chuckling as he saw the dog licking Hanzo’s hand in an act of friendship.

It was such a soft view: Shimada with animals. He was so grumpy or emotionless most of the time but three beers made him more… open. Less restrained in showing how he truly felt. 

And McCree could say without a trouble that now he was feeling joy, smile brightening his whole face. Everything thanks to the small ball of love and glee, covered with black fur.

He wished he could stop time just to look at that scene a little bit longer. It was making his heart so, so warm. He didn’t want to let that feeling go.

Hanzo stood up, Angela’s pet turning his head and making a lengthy sound. Their little companion wasn’t probably content with not being rubbed anymore. 

“Sorry lil fella, we gotta go,” Jesse said to the dog, heading his way and Hanzo reluctantly following him.

He took a peek at Shimada only to see him turning his head a bit, longing look sent in the pet’s direction.

_ Hanzo really does like little Fer, huh. _

Soon enough they reached the local church, a small wooden building painted white, windows filled with colorful glass. The lawn around was neatly mowed, flowerbeds filled with shrubs and their pink flowers. 

The whole place looked rather nice and inviting, however nighttime made it to appear more… eerie. Inappropriate to be in so late.

“What are we doing here?” Hanzo’s voice seemed tired but curious, two opposite attitudes fighting inside of him.

Jesse, with two large steps, passed the stairs, his hand on a metal door handle.

“Investigatin’, Han,” and with these words, he pushed the doors.

They opened without a trouble, screeching resonating in the night air. Jesse took a confident step inside, Hanzo rushing after him.

“Horsing around on a playground is one thing but breaking into a church!?” he hissed into McCree’s ear, his hand tightly holding on to his arm.

“It ain’t breaking in if it’s open 24h,” Jesse shrugged in a response, taking a look on the inside of the property. “Besides, we will only look around a bit.”

“ _ Jesse. _ ”

“Chill, Han. Minister is out of town and his wife doesn’t really come here. We are  _ safe. _ ”

Hanzo didn’t seem convinced, still grabbing Jesse’s arm and not letting him go further than inches in front of him. He sighed, resigned, his eyes wandering from one thing to another. From wooden pews to stained glass windows.

Those were particularly interesting, moonlight going through them and painting the floor with pale shades of colors.

The silence was drilling into his ears and into his brain, his and Hanzo’s breathes the only disturbance. Squeaking of an old wood didn’t exist, his attention completely focused on his friend.

He eventually let Jesse go, taking a few steps further into the church by himself. He didn’t stop until the very end of the aisle, the altar on the uplift within reach.

McCree took a moment to appreciate how nice Hanzo’s hair looked in that pale light. All glossy and soft at the edges, resembling a black waterfall.

He felt like touching it. Like taking it in between his fingers and twirling it. 

Jesse even extended his hand already, finding himself just behind Hanzo’s back. When did he walk there? He zoned out for only a brief moment but it was apparently long enough.

He swallowed loudly, catching himself in the last second possible and taking his hand back. He was yet still too sober to be doing things like that.

“It looks nice,” Hanzo said, softly, his gaze fixed on the altar.

McCree hummed in agreement. It really was a nice one. Modest but classy, not that he was an expert on altars or anything. 

“It’s funny how my first time in a church is in the middle of the night. Illegally,” Hanzo snorted, peeking at Jesse from under his long lashes.

“You atheist?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, putting his hands into jacket’s pockets. “Hard to explain. You?”

“Same, I guess,” Jesse admitted, his eyes going from his company to the altar and back. “Tho I come on Sundays from time to time. Our minister is nice and doesn’t talk bullshit most of the time.”

“Huh…”

They stood like that, in semi-comfortable silence, summer air seeping through slits. It wasn’t particularly awkward. But Jesse itched to do something,  _ anything.  _ Like grabbing Hanzo’s hand. Hanging his arm around his shoulders. Tripping him so he would chase him again.

In the end, he decided on something entirely different.

“Han, would ya mind a bit of a practice?” His voice gentle but mischievous tone playing in it, his mouth in a shape of crooked grin.

“What practice?”

Jesse’s smile became even broader as he extended his arms, one on Hanzo’s back and one in the bend of his knees. Before he could protest in any way, he was already lifted from the ground, McCree carrying him bridal style to the exit.

“ _ What. Are. You. Doing? _ ” Hanzo growled, his glare murderous but cheeks flushed nevertheless. It made him appear less like a killer and more like an angry kitten. 

Jesse smiled at that comparison in his mind, continuing his deliberate walk.

“One day I’m gonna carry someone special to me like that, so I might as well start practising when occasion occurs,” he explained politely.

Hanzo, however, didn’t seem convinced.

“ _ Put me down. Now. _ ”

Jesse sighed, commenting how his friend is no fun at all but eventually letting him go.

“Happy?”

Hanzo didn’t answer, his brown eyes glaring at him with that beady look, eyebrows frowned, nose crinkled and mouth contorted.

McCree wanted to look in another direction, slowly heading to the exit alone, but as soon as he took the first step, the ground disappeared from beneath his feet.

Only after a second did he realise that now  _ Hanzo  _ was carrying  _ him bridal style.  _ McCree screeched.

“What the-” he asked, his voice startled.

“I have the right to practice, too,” he answered proudly, smirking. 

Jesse shut up, holding onto Hanzo’s neck, securing himself from balancing him off and sending them both on the ground.

He was in awe.

Usually, people considered him the biggest one around, reserving some things for him and him only. Because he was tall and well-built. Because they were either small or skinny or both. Because that’s just how things were.

Hanzo broke that unwritten rule, being shorter and yet able to carry him like that. It was amazing. Shockingly hilarious. Charming, in a way.

McCree’s feet touched the ground as soon as they left the church, Hanzo resting his hands on his hips.

“You know…” he started, puffing. “You’re damn heavy.”

In the first second, Jesse stared at him, blankly. In the second one, he let out a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkled and corners of his mouth lifted real high.

Hanzo demanded an answer to why McCree was laughing so much but he got none. Instead, he received a whole hearted smile and an arm tugging his close. Jesse ended up bracing on him a bit, navigating them home.

The horizon tinted its edges with pink and orange, a fine pale line slowly growing bigger and bigger. Atmosphere around them changed, too. It seemed less creepy and altered, everything gaining colors bit by bit.

After a stroll they reached Jesse’s place, Hanzo being practically dragged upstairs.

“I want to show you somethin’,” McCree explained as Shimada raised an eyebrow on his behaviour.

His bedroom was average in his opinion. Not that small but not extremely spacious, either. Messy to somewhat an acceptable extent. Posters and photos sticked to the walls with tape. A guitar in one corner and a pile of books and magazines in another. An unmade double bed. A desk crowded with crumbled papers, cigarettes boxes and empty cans. A dresser. A thin wardrobe. Nothing extraordinary, really.

The window, however, seemed rather noteworthy in Jesse’s opinion. That’s why he made Hanzo walk all that way up to his room.

He went to the said window and opened it wide open, chilly air coming inside. 

“You know, I like this place,” he started, maybe a bit shyly, leaning on a frame. “I mean, you can see a forest from here and it’s so calming at times, to just look at that dark mass of trees ahead… Han?”

A steady breathing responded to him, Jesse glancing to the side. Hanzo clearly fell asleep, his legs still on a ground but the rest splayed on the bed.

Jesse smiled, fondly.

At the black disarray on his sheets. At the calm face with slightly open mouth. At the arms stretched back and almost hanging from the mattress. At the fact Hanzo didn’t even care to take off the borrowed jacket.

Jesse covered his mouth, his gaze still fixed on the sleeping friend.

He was feeling something warm inside of him, something fuzzy and soothing. The longer he looked, the stronger that feeling became. 

It resembled that strange urge in the church to touch Hanzo’s hair. But it was less drunk and more soft, somehow.

McCree shook his head and reached to the desk, taking a cigarette out of one of the boxes and lighting it up. He did not intend to wake up Hanzo with a smell. He just needed to… calm down. Think a bit.

The sun slowly rose as he was sitting on a windowsill, smoking and trying his best not to look in a certain direction.

 

\----

 

If it wasn’t for the dryness of his mouth, he would gladly sleep longer.

His temples were throbbing and the desert on his tongue seemed to be growing bigger, spreading to the roof of the mouth and further, till the very end of the throat. This horrible feeling was actually balancing on the line of being sore.

Hanzo carefully opened his eyes, his vision slowly sharpening. It took him a moment to realize where he was, his eyes wandering over Jesse’s bedroom in search of him. When he didn’t find him, he made a brave act of standing up, his head pulsating even more.

He emerged from the room and directed his footsteps down the stairs, noise in the kitchen indication somebody was down there.

“Ah, mornin’ Han!” McCree said with a cheery smile, his hair as messy as the night before. Or maybe even more. “How are ya?”

“Craving the sweet embrace of death,” he answered, deadpan, his mouth’s corners lifting up a bit as he heard Jesse’s snort.

“C’mon, sit down and let me ease your agony.”

He did as he was told, plopping down and watching as Jesse was taking something out of different cabinets. As McCree was putting a glass of juice in front of him, he noticed a change of the outfit. 

Strangely enough, he noted Jesse looked quite nice in that worn NASA t-shirt and boxer shorts.

“Orange juice for that tiny hangover of yours,” he said, singsong. “And in a minute there will be pancakes for that hungry little beast in your guts.”

“What are you-” his insides made a lengthy, growling sound, something almost painfully twitching as the nice smell reached his nostrils. “How-”

“I ain’t new to that rodeo,” Jesse winked, turning around and coming back to making them breakfast.

Hanzo hummed, partially in amusement and partially because he suddenly felt embarrassed. He only wasn’t sure whether it was because of him being a newbie to drinking or something entirely else.

Delicious smell filled the whole kitchen, floating further into the house. McCree seemed to be in his element, whistling and humming while flopping the pancakes. Hanzo’s sight darted from Jesse’s back to the small kitchen window and then to the clock nearby, idle curiosity about the hour his motivation.

It was almost eleven in the morning.

He gagged on the juice, his coughing bringing Jesse’s attention.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“It’s just,” he started, wiping orange droplets from his chin. “I didn’t think it’s so late already.”

“Oh,” Jesse looked at the clock and then again at him, half-smiling. “It’s not  _ that  _ late, though. And you deserved that bit of sleep, Han.”

Hanzo sighed heavily, the throbbing in his temples already easing.

“You could really wake me up, you know.”

“I’m not that much longer awake than you. I’ve barely walked into the kitchen when you stumbled in here.”

“So when you’ve changed?”

“Huh?” Jesse looked down at his clothes. “Oh, it’s kind of like pj’s, ya know? When you fell asleep, I cleaned up the living room a bit and then took a nap on a couch.”

“Oh,” it was all Hanzo could bring out of himself in a response. 

He remained silent, sipping the remnants of his drink, until Jesse put a plate with a healthy amount of pancakes in front of him, maple and chocolate syrups nearby.

“Grub’s up!”

Hanzo couldn’t recall when was the last time he ate pancakes for breakfast and how much did he enjoy that meal. However, these in the very front of him tasted… good. Delicious, even.

“You should open a pancake bar,” he commented, mouth still somewhat full with the food.

“Aww, I’m glad you like Chief Jesse’s Signature Dish number two,” he grinned, hand on his heart as he bowed a little, a gesture both charming and hilarious. 

“What’s the number one?”

“ _ Birria _ .”

It was probably the first time Hanzo heard Jesse speaking Spanish. There was something to it, something… he didn’t even know how to describe it. Even if he just said a name of a dish. Even if it was just one word.

He only knew tips of his ears turned a bit red, he could  _ feel  _ that, and that was enough for him not to dig that matter more. He returned to eating breakfast, McCree luckily too preoccupied with his own plate to notice anything.

Even though he did nothing to help with preparing the meal, he insisted on cleaning everything himself. That was the least he could do, to make himself useful.

“You’re a guest, Han,” McCree opposed, trying to stop him from washing dishes. “It’s on me to clean that up,” he vaguely gestured on the pile of dirty plates, a bowl and a pan.

“Sorry to break that to you but I’m not gonna treat you like a servant of sorts,” he said, looking Jesse in the eye. “I  _ want  _ to help. Please.”

McCree sighed, his hand going through his hair and messing them even more up.

“You’re hopeless, you know that?”

Hanzo smiled, proudly, going back to the task of washing dishes. Jesse sighed again, the sound of steps on stairs giving his destination away.

After a longer while he returned to the kitchen, all plates and whatnot already dried and neatly put in a pile.

“You really didn’t have to.”

Hanzo sideways glanced at him, McCree raising both his hands in act of defence.

He changed into a black t-shirt with pacman and white shorts, hair fixed. Nevertheless, this current look was somewhat odd.

“What?”

“I guess I’m too used to seeing you in jeans and leather,” Hanzo hummed, glancing all over Jesse’s figure. “You look so… different in this, is all.”

Jesse gave him a crooked smile, pulling his obligatory sunglasses out of nowhere and putting them on top of his head. 

“Too hot to be a  _ pretty boy,  _ I guess.”

“So who are you know?”

McCree grinned, his fangs showing. He pulled sunglasses down on his nose, finger guns made in Hanzo’s direction.

“Your local cranky neighbour, stealing milk from mats at day and breaking into public properties for fun at night.”

It apparently broke Hanzo up, helpless laughter escaping his mouth. Jesse smiled at that, his goal achieved.

“You’re impossible,” he eventually said, wiping a small tear out of the corner of his right eye.

McCree shrugged with a smile, pulling his sunglasses back again.

“What are you up to now?”

“I think I’m going home,” Hanzo replied, his arms suddenly hunched. “I’ll hear a lecture when I come back for staying here so long, no need in putting that on ice.”

Jesse rolled his eyes as he groaned, slowly turning on his heel and heading to the door. 

“I’ll walk you. I know a cool shortcut if you care about time?”

Hanzo nodded, appreciating the gesture. Just as he was about to walk outside, he spotted himself in the mirror and stopped half-step.

“Oh God, I’ve forgotten,” he said with a tinge of embarrassment, taking the denim jacket off. “Thanks for lending me it and… sorry for sleeping in it.”

“N’aw, no need,” Jesse chuckled, taking his belongings and hanging it by the door. “It suits you, by the way.”

Hanzo groaned, his hand now covering his eyes in an act of… discountenance? Annoyance? Maybe both.

“What?” Jesse said innocently, closing the door behind them.

“Nothing,” he growled, sending lowkey threatening glares in McCree’s direction.

He didn’t seem to care about those, though. He just shrugged, taking a lead and navigating Hanzo through different alleys and even someone’s lawns.

Just as he was a few hours ago, the moon and street lights probably the only reason they didn’t get lost in the summer night’s darkness.

 

\-----

 

The whole world seemed merely awake, sun already up but people and animals still inside their houses. Not that Hanzo minded that state of things. The sound of his feet thumping on the sidewalk and heavy breathing were the only disturbances to the perfect silence of that summer morning.

He liked jogging at this time of a day. He could see everything and assure himself he was going in right directions, and it was peaceful, too. The only person he’d met today was a mailman, an elderly man waving at him in greeting.

Today was particularly warm, blue and cloudless sky foreshadowing a beautiful hot day.

Mischievous streaks slipped out of the ponytail as he grabbed the STOP sign to quickly turn around. Now they were covered in sweat, sticking to his face and poking into his eyes.

Hanzo sighed and stopped, combing them back with his hand. It was a time for a short break, anyway.

Just as he let his hair down to make another ponytail, he felt his ankle being tickled.

Down there, a familiar ball of black fur was licking his leg.

“ _ Ferdinand! _ ”

Hanzo looked up from the ground, a blond girl running towards him, her white tennis skirt eddying in a funny manner.

The dog turned in her direction, barking cheerfully and frisking, yet still remaining at his side.

“Ferdinand, I swear, why are you doing this to me?” she sighed with resignation, swinging forward to take the dog in her hands. “I’m sorry, he usually doesn’t act like that.”

Her blue eyes were now focused on him, concern and guilt intense and therefore visible.

“No need to be sorry, really,” he answered politely, finishing his ponytail. “You must be Angela?”

“How do you know?” she blinked, pursing her mouth.

“Jesse’s told me that this little guy,” he pointed at the dog, happy barking probably a form of thanking him for that mention. “Belongs to someone named Angela and since it appears to be your dog, you must be her.”

“Ah!” she smiled brightly, curious sparks behind her eyes. “So you’re this famous Hanzo Jesse’s always talking about!”

He nodded, tips of his ears feeling hotter than a second ago.

“...He is?”

“Oh yes, I’d dare to say you’re his second favourite topic, right after Westerns,” she giggled, Ferdinand whining in her hands for the lack of the attention. “Shhh, you little troublemaker, I’m patting you, okay?”

“So you’re a morning bird, huh?” Angela asked casually, scratching her dog behind his ear. “That’s rare.”

Hanzo shrugged.

“It’s quieter in the morning, easier to focus and all.”

She nodded in agreement, Ferdinand pleased with the given attention as he was now squirming in her arms, trying to lick her hand.

It was a soft view, Hanzo noted, fuzzy ball looking somewhat adorable in those pink folds of Angela’s sweatshirt.

“I’ve never seen you around before,” he said eventually, silence between them suddenly bothersome. “Is this a new walking route or something?”

She smiled, tenderly, putting a single streak behind her ear.

“I usually don’t walk him so early but today I felt like it,” her smiled faded a bit, wistful tinge suddenly appearing. “It’s not like I’ll have many occasions to walk him soon, too.”

“College?”

“Harvard.”

Hanzo whistled in admiration.

“Congratulations on that,” he said, offering her a reassuring smile. “It’s a thing worth celebrating on any given chance.”

“That reminds me,” she changed the subject suddenly, her eyes sparkling again. “Has Jesse told you about the party?”

“What party?”

“At Victor’s place,” she replied. “He throws a party at least once each summer, his parents have that huge house down the Abbey Avenue with pool in the yard and everything!”

He smiled at her politely, again, her enthusiasm somewhat childish and yet endearing.

“You should come,” she stated firmly, the dog barking cheerfully at her words. “See? Even Ferdinand agrees with me!”

“I’m not sure,” he chuckled, trying his best not to look at that small fuzzy ball in Angela’s arms. He  _ knew  _ that if he looked at him, he would be doomed. “I’m not a party-person.”

“Me neither,” she shrugged. “I only go because there is always some nice food and somebody has to watch over all those drunk teens.”

Hanzo snorted at that.

“This is my mission, you know,” Angela said solemnly, her expression exaggeratedly serious. “As a future doctor, I need to practise dealing with every kind of people. Besides, some of my friends don’t know what a word  _ restraint  _ mean so somebody just  _ has to  _ watch over them.”

“You’re truly an angel, Angela.”

And then both of them cracked up, unintended pun the last string.

“No, but really,” she said after a minute or two, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “You can always go home if you don’t like it up there, it’s not like you have to sit there till the very end of the party.”

_ She has a point. _

“When is it?” he finally asked, scratching the back of his head.

“In two days, starting at nine,” Angela replied brightly, putting Ferdinand down. He apparently was too heavy for her to carry like that for long. “It’s a huge house with pink roses right by the fence, easy to find.”

“Thanks, Angela.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled wholeheartedly at him, once again pushing a blond streak behind her ear. “I just wonder why Jesse wasn’t the one to invite you.”

“I guess he’s forgotten.” Hanzo shrugged as Angela pursed her lips. “It’s not like we are best friends seeing each other every single day.”

She didn’t seem content with that answer, crossing her arms and crinkling her nose.

The truth was, he felt a bit hurt by that whole situation.

Hanzo would never call himself a party animal or even willingly outgoing, rather the exact opposite, in fact. However, that tiny thing that Jesse had not even mentioned that particular event was…  _ stinging _ .

Victor was the one organising the party so McCree  _ had to  _ know about it. Hell, he probably figured on the very top of the guests list. Such events take time to prepare and besides, Angela even told him that those at Victor’s place were  _ recurrent. _

There was no way Jesse didn’t know. That left two options. Either he really had forgotten to tell Hanzo or he had passed that over in silence on purpose.

It wasn’t like he cared much about that whole party, not really. It was more about the fact it seemed to be the first time McCree  _ hid  _ something from him.

Or at least first time Hanzo  _ knew  _ he did.

 

\-----

 

His parents didn’t seem content with the idea of him going to the party but surprisingly he paid that no mind. 

It wasn’t like he suddenly cared less about things they drilled into him. Just… being friends with Jesse taught him something about himself. That wanting something from time to time, wanting to  _ have fun,  _ was okay. And Hanzo did crave for something more in his life than checking achievements in the mental list his parents written into his mind.

The more he was hanging out with McCree, the more comfortable he was becoming with that concept. It felt wonderful, to just… accept it. Be okay with it.

He strolled down the avenue, sky still bright as he reached the house that matched Angela’s description. Muffled music and voices were echoing, not really becoming clearer as he walked to the front door. Only more chaotic and hectic.

The door turned out to be open and as soon as he pushed them, a hot stuffy air hit his face. He sighed, wondering why he even decided on coming here in the first place, and came inside, shutting the door closed.

Everything was literally  _ vibrating  _ from sound.

According to information from Angela, the party barely started but place was already packed, people indistinguishable from each other, everybody one wiggling mass of body parts.

Christmas-looking lights, meticulously attached to walls, looked nice in Hanzo’s opinion, creating a unique atmosphere and all. They hardly gave any light, though. Everything was bathed in that dimness, making it hard to navigate between furniture and other people.

Somehow he managed to slip into the kitchen, the regular light illuminating the table with food and drinks. And the table was  _ huge,  _ two families probably not enough to fill all the places by it.

It could be considered sad or a little rude of him, that he prioritized snacks at the party. He didn’t care, though. By now he had maybe three friends in this godforsaken place and the rest either disliked him or wasn’t even aware of his existence at all. All the charm of high school.

Jesse and Terry were probably somewhere around here but he couldn’t tell if he wished to look for them. For now at least. He’d much more spend some time all by himself, listening to questionable choice of music and admire the wide variety of food in front of him.

Besides, the kitchen looked like the most deserted place in that whole house and the less packed the room, the happier he felt.

He could go for a little sightseeing, explore the upper floor and the yard behind but for now, suspiciously pink candies and punch nearby were calling for his attention.

 

 

Somewhere past midnight, he could tell three things for certain.

First, he wasn’t really welcome. Not that anyone had told that in his face, no. But he felt those piercing and judging eyes on his skin wherever he went. It’s started with whispers in the kitchen, then spreaded like a contagious virus. There was always someone in the room who would give him  _ that  _ look.

That they didn’t like him being there. That they were disgusted with his skin color. Shit like that. The only amusing thing was that Hanzo couldn’t tell whether it happened because of everyone being in a relatively small space, because punch and other drinks contained too much alcohol to be considered healthy or both.

Second, it truly was astonishing how quickly everyone got smashed. And how eager they seemed to sustain that state.

Hanzo wouldn’t never call himself an expert in that matter but it looked like Victor had put at least four or five different kinds of alcoholic drinks in the kitchen. Reserves didn’t look as if giving out anytime soon, what was slightly terrifying, all those people around in more or less drunk state.

Not to mention that one infamous room upstairs he decided on peeking into. God, it was  _ a mistake.  _ He hadn’t seen a single thing, the thick smoke obscuring his vision but he didn’t care about that _.  _ What almost had sent him all the way back down through banister was  _ the smell. _

He’d say that a pair of heavily used jock’s socks, marinated in urine and left for a week in a jar with pickles and random herbs probably smelled better than  _ that.  _ How on Earth people enjoyed blazing, Jesus.

Third, apparently Victor’s parties had a reputation for being intense and immersive but overall short. Not because people felt like going back home in the middle of the night, not really. Actually, they physically  _ weren’t able to  _ do so even if they really wished to.

Everyone was so utterly  _ blasted  _ that party just couldn’t go on. No one was sober. Even Hanzo himself, two cups of punch enough to make him tipsy already. Either he had a very weak and inexperienced head or somebody thought it would be funny to disguise vodka with some fruits for punch. Or maybe both. He didn’t really care at that point.

He decided not to drink more as to not end up like everybody else, bodies spread across the floor, furniture and on top of other bodies. Some were brave enough to try to stand up and walk but most of those alive-like sticked to just groveling.

When a whole house looked like a homicide crime scene, it became obvious who was not that much into getting wasted. He spot Angela in no minute, waving at her.

She smiled at him, graciously tiptoeing between crunk individuals.

“You came!” she cheered at him with her cup, a golden liquid plopping out at the move. “Whoops!”

“Haven’t you said something about being a guardian angel to your friends?” he noted, snorting as Angela took a solid sip of her drink.

“I need to watch over them so they don’t drink themselves to death but that doesn’t mean I need to be completely sober,  you know?” she smiled knowingly, adjusting the loose t-shirt of hers.

A lost soul, clearly high too, wandered into the living room where they’d been standing, staring at them as if they were aliens or some other peculiarity.

“Are you a yolk?” the guy spluttered, narrowing his eyes as if trying to sharpen his vision in that already poor light. 

“Fuck off, Jamie,” Angela said with a fake smile, her voice covered in at least five layers of sugar and eyes dangerously narrowed. “I think you should check if you’re not in the dumpster.”

The guy looked at her, all misty-eyes, brows furrowed as if thinking costed him double effort.

“That’s a good idea, Angie,” he turned triumphantly on his heel, only to make one big step and bumping into a wall.

Jamie whopped, strange noises escaping his mouth as Angela tried her best not to laugh out loud. Hanzo struggled with similar problem, too.

“Okay, so,” she started after a minute or two, whipping a tear from the corner of her eye, trying her best not to smear a mascara all over her face. Or at least it looked like it. “Have you seen Jesse yet?”

Hanzo shrugged.

“Not really, too many people to even go and look for him.”

“True.” She nodded, resting a free hand on her hip. “Though I’ve seen him around the pool in the yard. Might want to check up there.”

“Thanks.” He smiled at her, finishing whatever he had left in his cup and dumping it in the nearest bin. “What are up to?”

Angela winked at him, mischievous smile on her features.

“Inside scoop.”

He barked a short laugh at that, waving his way goodbye. 

No matter how dumb it sounded, he really wanted to see Jesse. Partially because he wanted to know why McCree had not mention the party to him but mostly because... The last time they had seen each other was about a week ago or even more. He kind of missed him.

Hanzo would lie if he told he didn’t grow fond of Jesse. He was goofy and awkwardly plainspoken at times but. He was kind and patient with him. Friendly even when Hanzo was nothing but grumpy and cold. Jesse also had weird but strangely alluring sense of humor, too.

It was hard for Hanzo  _ not  _ to like him, really.

Fresh night air filled his lungs as soon as he opened the back door, his whole being suddenly thankful for the existence of such things like yards. He didn’t realize how stifling the whole house was until now, chilling but still warm draft tickling his sweaty skin.

He spotted McCree in about six seconds, familiar silhouette in a black leather jacket standing by the backlighted pool.

“Hey.” 

Jesse turned around and his eyes went wide, a huge grin following in a second.

“Han!!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms tightly around Hanzo’s back. From this distance he could smell that McCree had drunk rather  _ a lot.  _ “What ya doin’ here?”

“Surprised?” Hanzo raised an eyebrow, smug smile on his face. “Angela’s invited me.”

At first, Jesse looked shocked and dismayed. Then it turned into guilt and embarrassment. His gaze dropped, one of hands rubbing the back of his neck.

“You mad?” he eventually slurred, shoulders hunched.

McCree looked so, so miserable. Hanzo suddenly didn’t have heart to be angry at him anymore.

“No, just curious.”

He sighed, lifting his gaze up.

“Victor’s friends are rags. Most of ‘em. Didn’t want to make ya feel bad.” Even if so cursorily, Hanzo found that explanation weirdly comforting and heartwarming. “Sorry, Han.”

He smiled tenderly at him, giving him a nudge.

“Thanks for worrying about me but next time just tell me. I won’t come anyway, this place is a den of juggers.”

Jesse snorted, hanging his arm around Hanzo’s shoulders and bringing him closer.

“Glad you’re here, tho.”

He smelled like a fine alcoholic cocktail but his voice was so warm and. His smile looked so blissful and emanating that wholeheartedness and. And…

Hanzo couldn’t physically beare that. He looked away, feeling his cheeks and ear tips blushing.

Jesse made a whining sounds, poking  his cheek.

“What’s wrooooong?”

“How much did you drink?”

He didn’t really care but he couldn’t think of anything better to ask. Sue him.

“Hmm…” McCree shrugged. “A lot.”

Hanzo made something in between a sigh and a groan, Jesse’s crooked grin not really helping him.

“Still could’ve drunk more.” He winked at him, earning another nudge but firmer this time. “Ouch!”

“Your liver must love you.”

McCree shrugged again, twisting his head slightly to the side, his hazel eyes fixed on him. Hanzo idly wondered if his pupils were dilated so much because of alcohol or darkness, or both.

However, before he had a chance to ask why Jesse was so bluntly  _ staring  _ at him, somebody shouted at them from behind.

“Fuck off, Jamie!” McCree shouted back, raising both of his hands and showing both middle fingers. “You should check if ya ain’t in the dumpster!”

Hanzo guffawed at the deja vu, noises from behind indicating the guy found that idea great  _ again. _

He was just about to remark how he and Angela deserved each other when Jesse took one step behind too much. With arms stretched far and eyes wide, he hit the pool’s surface, loud  _ splash  _ resonating in a summer night, music long turned down.

Chuckled escaped his mouth against his will, the whole situation just too hilarious to his own liking.

However, when McCree still wasn’t resurfacing, Hanzo started to worry. After almost a minute with no signs of life, he jumped after him.

After a moment they both returned, gasping for air.

“Han,” Jesse started, wet hair sticking to his face and poking his eyes. “You needn’t do that. I was fine.”

He didn’t bother to talk that out. He straightforwardly punched him in the arm. Hard.

“Ouch!” he grimaced, grabbing his freshly violated arm. “For what?”

“For scaring the shit out of me, you dubbo,” Hanzo fired back, his own hair obscuring his vision a bit.

McCree sighed, swimming closer to him and pulling hair out of his face.

“Sorry,” he said, apologetic smile on his face. “I appreciate the concern, though.”

Hanzo huffed but couldn’t help smiling himself, Jesse tugging him to the pool’s edge. When they got out of the water, all of their clothes stuck closely to their bodies, moving around feeling bizarre at the very least.

“Wanna come over?” McCree suddenly asked, taking his jacket off. “I need to change. Have some spare clothes if you want, too.”

Hanzo hesitated but nodded, silently following his friend on their way out.

It wasn’t like he had any better plans for tonight, he might as well spend some time with Jesse and away from all that alcohol and weed.

 

 

The familiar clock in McCree’s house struck three when they finally came inside. How long it took them to get there was horrendous, to say the least. Hanzo’s t-shirt was almost dry already.

But, of course, Jesse just  _ had to  _ drag them both all around the neighbourhood. The main attractions involved being attacked by a stray cat and running through other people’s lawns, no matter if there were dogs or not. Hanzo just hoped all of this sobered Jesse a little bit.

They went upstairs, right to McCree’s bedroom, place nicely familiar. 

Jesse took his clothes off without ceremony, throwing them on the already crowded chair. Hanzo rolled his eyes on that, starting to get rid of his own clothing, too. Before he knew it, some dark mass was tossed at him, probably some pants and a shirt.

“I hope it’ll do,” Jesse said as he pulled a band t-shirt on himself, apparently deciding on staying in boxer shorts.

He put given things on, a pleasant feeling washing all over him from wearing something  _ dry. _ Only then did he care to look carefully on what he was actually wearing.

He snorted.

“What?”

“This t-shirt is hideous,” Hanzo answered with a smirk, a jiveass monster in neon green leering at him, neon pink splashed all around him. Probably blood. Or intestines. Or both.

Jesse smiled at him, pretending to be resentful.

“If y’ain’t like it, take it off and stay nakey,” he said, deadpan, earning a nudge in the ribs.

Then he snorted, poking Hanzo’s cheek in a mini-revange. Then Hanzo poked him in a stomach. Before any of them knew it, they were fighting, pokes and nudges sent in all directions, every single one of them merciless.

McCree broke first, almost hysterical laugh coming out of him as he rolled onto the floor, catching his stomach in act of protection.

“Hey, shh!” Hanzo covered his mouth. “What if your uncle storm in here?”

“Nah, he out on huntin’,” Jesse replied casually, carelessness  _ beaming  _ from here.

_ He’s still tipsy, huh. _

“He won’t be back until mornin’ at least,” he stood up, combing his already dry hair back. It did exactly nothing as they fell down on his face again, some strands curling up a bit. “Shit.”

Hanzo chuckled at that, readjusting shorts he was given and taking care of his wet clothes. Jesse’s too, actually.

Meanwhile he tried his best to hang them on a chair, McCree disappeared for a minute, coming back with a handy boombox and a small box.

He gave him a puzzled look as Jesse put both things on his bed, waving at Hanzo to come and sit by him.

“Don’t know how about you but I’m in the mood to sing,” he stated proudly, playful tinge nowhere to be found in his voice. He wasn’t joking.

“Jesse, it’s three in the morning.”

“And?”

“Your neighbours may yell at you, snitch on you to your uncle, storm in here themselves, call the police… The possibilities are endless.”

For a mere second, he looked as if considering said consequences. Then he simply shrugged, taking a small box in his hands and opening it.

It was filled with tapes.

“ _ Jesse no. _ ”

“ _ Jesse yes, _ ” he replied with a grin, taking one of the tapes out. “Mixtape #2 is pretty good.”

Despite Hanzo’s requests, threats and groaning, he did what he wanted. With a slight close-lipped smile and chin up, he pushed  _ play  _ button.

A percussion sound filled the whole bedroom, guitar soon joining in.

Hanzo knew the tune.

_ “ _ _ Hell hell, what the matter with your mind and your sign and a ohohoh _ ,” Jesse was singing along, taking an excessive care to make silly faces, too.

He couldn’t stand it, he cracked up.

“ _ Hell hell what the matter with your feel right don't you feel right baby, _ ” he sang again, making finger guns at him this time. Hanzo laughed even louder, wiping a tear from his eye.

“ _ Come and get your love now, _ ” he eventually managed to say, deciding on joining his friend.

“ _ Come and get your love! _ ” they sang together in unison, wiggling on a bed to the song.

It was going on repeat now, lyrics not really demanding but nevertheless catchy. As it began to fade, Jesse smiled mischievously at him.

“Ready for round two?”

Hanzo smiled back, next piece starting.

“ _ When I die and they lay me to rest _ ,” Jesse came in, playing an air guitar as well. “ _ Gonna go to the place that's the best. _ ”

“That’s not fair, I don’t know that one!” Hanzo protested.

McCree looked at him and shrugged with a smirk, singing the song as it was going.

He groaned but let Jesse continue his yowling, taking his time to enjoy the tune. He liked it so far.

“ _ Never been a sinner I never sinned _ ,” McCree looked up at Hanzo, winking and smiling knowingly. “ _ I got a friend in Jesus. _ ”

He had an impression he was referencing that one time they broke into the church. Oh God. He couldn’t help but chuckle, back laying back on the bed and hand covering his eyes in something in between amusement and shame.

They continued their little game, a whole thing way too enjoyable to Hanzo’s liking. He didn’t sign up for this, he was way too sober for that.

And yet, a strange warm feeling was spreading within him the longer they laughed and horsed around. It felt so… peculiar to him, and yet so radical and  _ just right.  _ Home should feel like that, it stroke him after a fifth or sixth song, eyes slightly widening with a realisation.

It occurred to him that his home wasn’t his home, only his house. A place to live and study, store his belongings and such. He had never experienced the  _ feeling  _ of home there, at least he could not recall it. It was sad, in a way.

He didn’t know how much he had missed until now, Jesse laying next to him in a dim light, sun probably slowly raising outside, music playing and their laughs and voices echoing in an empty house.

“Hey, you good?”

Hanzo looked at McCree, his friend now resting his head on his palm, his gaze fixed on him, slight concern in it.

“Yeah, it’s just,” he hesitated, biting his lip. “I didn’t think you’re such a good singer.”

Jesse snorted, smiling widely.

“Same about you, Han.”

“Is your hearing defective when you’re drunk?” he raised a single eyebrow, disbelief in his eyes. “Because my voice is  _ certainly  _ not made for singing.”

“Firstly, I’ve sobered up. And secondly,” he leaned closer, flicking his nose. “You need to go easier on yourself.”

Hanzo hummed, looking up at him.

Jesse was smiling, fondly, something in the way he was looking back at him that made his insides twists. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to dig into that, he was probably reading too much into this anyway. 

McCree’s subtle freckles were much more immersive, mostly because Hanzo had no idea about their existence until now. 

“Okay, so!” Jesse said playfully, hearing that  _ Southern Nights _ came into the end. “The next one dedicated to you.”

He gave him a puzzled look but smiled nevertheless, trying to guess what was coming on him.

The song started, very slowly and steady. Hanzo  _ knew  _ the song but couldn’t recall the title. 

“ _ Wise men say only fools rush in, _ ” Jesse intonated alongside the singer, his voice deep and tender. “ _ But I can't help falling in love with you. _ ”

Shiver went down his spine, heart skipping a beat as his friend continued.

_ “Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you.” _

Blood rushed up to his face, tinting his cheeks and ears red. His heart was ramming against his ribcage, breath shallowing and eyes widening with each word coming from Jesse.

He didn’t look as if he wanted to stop anytime soon, continuing on singing the ballad.

_ “Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can't help falling in love with you.” _

Hanzo had no clue what all of this was about. Why McCree decided to  _ dedicate  _ him  _ that  _ song? Why he seemed so  _ devoted  _ to it? Was he still drunk? Did he want to mess up with him? Was it a joke?

...Was it not a joke?

_ “Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be”  _ Jesse smiled at him,  _ bashfully,  _ and continued, whereas he wanted nothing more than being swallowed up by the ground.

McCree’s intentions aside, another important thing was more unsettling to him.

Why  _ he  _ was reacting like that?  _ Why  _ his body was reacting so strongly to lyrics of the love song? Because they were sung to him? Because Jesse was the one singing? Was it the mixture of these two? Or maybe something entirely different?

He didn’t know.

He only felt betrayed by his own self. Embarrassed in front of his best friend. Partially because  _ of  _ him. 

_ “For I can't help falling in love with you”  _ Jesse sang the last time, music slowly fading into a silence.

He stopped the boombox, his eyes fixed on Hanzo, waiting.

After a minute of complete silence, he averted his gaze to the ground, running a hand through his already messy hair. Hanzo could see tops of his ears turning red.

“U-Umm…” he tried to speak but his voice seemed shaky, lips trembling.

It was the first time Jesse looked so  _ anxious. _

Oh God.

“Han-”

“I need to go to the bathroom.” And like that he stood up and stormed out of the room, carefully closing the door behind.

Hanzo dropped to the floor, breath unsteady and cheeks still horribly flushed.

Why this? Everything was going so great today and now he couldn’t deal with  _ himself,  _ not to mention McCree and his… whatever it was.

He had to get home. He couldn’t think like that. Not here, anyway.

He took a deep breath, stood up and came back to the bedroom, Jesse standing from the bed as he spotted him.

“Hanzo-”

“Thanks for letting me come over,” he said quickly, putting all of his self control into remaining calm and collected. “But I think I need to go.”

“Now?” Jesse looked perplexed. Maybe devastated. He couldn’t tell anymore.

“It’s getting bright out” He made a vague gesture in the window’s direction. “I’ll be fine. My clothes are dry too. I’m gonna change and leave.”

He did as he said, McCree not even trying to stop him.

Hanzo, when handing Jesse his clothes and saying one last “thanks,” had an impression he was blinking tears back.

He really did hope it was only his imagination.

 

\-----

 

The small ball of fur approached him as soon as its tiny legs let it.

Jesse greeted Ferdinand by a scratch behind the ear, the dog’s tail wagging enthusiastically. In no time his owner came into the line of sight, her white dress softly blowing in the air.

“You actually came,” Angela noted, adjusting the matching hair band and a small purse.

McCree was surprised himself, actually. He wouldn’t say those last two weeks were easy on him or his well being overall, constant anxiety and doubts dwelling in his throat whenever he tried to move on. He really did want to do something,  _ anything,  _ basically. 

Moping around couldn’t be considered healthy no matter how you looked at it and he knew that. He also knew wearing pajamas all day long, barely eating and excessively drinking would eventually ruin him even more, too.

“Everythin’ for ya, Angie,” he smiled half-arsed, his poor attempt causing her probably even more worry.

“Strawberry one, right?” 

Jesse nodded, plopping down onto the sidewalk with the dog and making sure shadow was casted on them both. Meanwhile, Angela rushed inside the bistro.

She came back after a few minutes, holding two milkshakes and already sipping from one of them. McCree thanked her as she sat down next to him, apparently paying no mind to the dirt.

“Okay, so what’s the deal, Jesse?”

He glanced at her, streaks of hair poking in his eyes.

“You know what’s up, Angie.”

“I only know you look like a mess, feel like one and that I am here to help,” she stated firmly, putting her arm on his shoulder and squeezing gently.

He appreciated the effort and the fact she was willing to listen to him. It wasn’t like he could tell anyone about his problem in the first place.

“It’s just… I’ve told him how I feel. He’s run away. I haven’t taken that well and…” He took a solid sip of his milkshake, cold sweetness spreading all over his tongue. “And I don’t know what to do at this point.”

“Did you try to talk with him after that?”

“Yes. No. It’s complicated.”

Angela sighed heavily, scratching Ferdinand’s head as he peeked at her curiously.

“I haven’t tried to meet with him on purpose,” Jesse explained after a minute or two of silence. “Though I’ve bumped into him a few times. He was always looking away and I didn’t have guts to push.”

McCree run his free hand through already messy hair, his willingness to take care of it gone since the Victor’s party. Not even once had he combed it or styled, Aiden pointing out his slovenly appearance the other day.

Sun was high above the horizon, kids riding their bikes and rollerblades on the spacious parking lot nearby. They didn’t seem to mind the high temperature, Jesse already feeling twice as old and tired whenever rays of summer sun touched his skin.

“I don’t necessarily think he despises you, you know.”

McCree really  _ really  _ wanted to believe in that.

“Both of you were more or less tipsy and it was a sudden confession. He might has got scared and backed off or thought you were making fun of him, there is a lot of options,” she took yet another sip of her milkshake, blue eyes fixed on him and full of sympathy. “Hanzo is a nice guy. Understanding, too.”

“I know.”

“The point is,” she continued, resting her hand on his knee. “He probably doesn’t know or isn’t sure where the two of you are exactly.”

Jesse gave her a startled look, Angela sighing with exasperation.

“Go to him. Talk. Tell what you feel as outrightly as possible and everything should be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” he whined, earning a slap on the arm. “Ouch!”

“I know you’re miserable and that an honest talk is much better than doing nothing,” she said firmly, arms now crossed on her chest.

McCree eventually sighed, running his hand through hair one last time before finishing his milkshake and throwing the cup away.

“It’s just… It’s the middle of August and we’re gonna be seniors soon. Or maybe we already are ones. I don’t want to spend this whole time feeling like I’ve made a mistake beyond fixing. That I have made  _ Han  _ feel like that.”

“So go and fix it, Jesse.”

Angela gave him a reassuring smile, gently squeezing his hand. She really was an angel, always being somewhere nearby if you needed her.

He reciprocated the gesture, eventually standing up and creating a plan on how to make everything better.

“Thanks, Angela.”

“No problem, really.”

She gave him yet one another smile, trying to fill him up with at least an ounce of hope she had. He thought it worked, somehow.

He was already feeling better and more confident on his way home.

 

 

The next day he put an effort to look… decent-ish.

No crumpled, dirty clothes. Hair neatly combed back. Hell, he even ate an actual breakfast and not his uncle’s leftovers or spare beers.

Not that it made him feel any better, his heart pounding and palms slightly sweating as he knocked to the Shimada’s doors.

“Yes?” The woman asked, her voice sharp and chin lifted up real high.

“Is Hanzo home?”

Mrs. Shimada gave him a bit suspicious look but called her son nevertheless. McCree’s previous visits apparently enough to make him remembered.

In no time did Hanzo show up, hair put into a ponytail and sports clothes on. He was probably exercising or just finished doing that, sweat still covering his temples.

McCree swallowed, trying to smile.

“Hey, Han.”

Hanzo casted his eyes down, rubbing his neck as well.

“Hi Jesse.”

“Um, you got some time? I, erm,” he scratched his cheek, an urge to run away stinging. “I wanted to talk. And take a walk, if that’s okay with you.”

Hanzo looked as if hesitating, weighting the possibles outcomes or so it appeared. Eventually he nodded, telling him to wait a second.

He returned after a while, some more casual clothes put on. Something fond stung McCree’s insides at the Hanzo’s ponytail, still in place.

“I wanted to show you one place, hope it’s okay?” Jesse asked a bit too anxiously to his own liking.

“Sure.”

Everything was so stiff and unnatural, he wanted to puke. He dearly missed that comfort of each other’s presence, the ability to freely speak their minds.

Jesse hoped it wasn’t gone forever.

He couldn’t wrap his mind about the fact Hanzo agreed on being led, especially after entering the forest. In his opinion it looked quite suspicious or worrisome. Somebody willingly following the guy who confessed to them about his feelings two weeks ago? Odd. 

Not that Jesse was about to complain out loud, not at all. He was incredibly glad Shimada had given him that little credit and decided on not speaking or asking troublesome questions.

It would ruin his plans.

Jesse helped his friend on their way down the gulch, his memory the only thing preventing them from the miserable fall.

Once safe, they headed straight to the bank, the creek’s sound promising chill and refreshment in the summer day.

“Kids hang out here on hotter days,” Jesse said, breaking the unsettling silence between him and Shimada. “I used to too, when I was younger.”

Hanzo nodded, probably only out of politeness.

Jesse sighed heavily.

“This is also a place I’ve met my first crush.”

He didn’t really know what made him think this was a good idea. However, since he already had started, it would be nice to finish. Especially because Hanzo seemed interested, sparks of curiosity in his dark eyes.

“She was a true beauty, you know? Long dark hair and all,” he hunkered down, searching for a small flat stone. “Witty and lowkey mysterious, it took me about six seconds to fell for her.”

He found one and picked it up, Hanzo hovering over him.

“There was a problem, though.”

“What?”

“I was maybe eleven and she was a college girl,” he skimmed stones, looking at his companion with a half smile.

“Pretty hopeless,” Hanzo said.

“I know,” he chuckled, looking for yet another stone. “But I was really persistent, ya know? I’d come here to see her everyday, to talk with her and laugh, and all.”

He finally found it, skimming it right away.

“She had never given air to me, ya know?  She used to ask me  _ you always were such a charmer?  _ with that sweet smile and, God, she always got me with that.”

He smiled fondly at the memory, even though he didn’t exactly mean to.

“Summer always ends, though. So did that particular one. She came to see me, to tell me she’s off to her school and stuff. I guess it’s not that hard to believe I was literally  _ heartbroken _ .”

“It sure isn’t,” Hanzo nodded.

“I told her I’d wait. Wait for her to come back here and all,” Jesse heard a chuckle as he was about to continue. “ _ That’s nice but I think you’re still a little bit too short for me,  _ she told me. It hurt my pride!”

He dramatically clutched his hand over his heart, Hanzo’s silvery laugh pleasantly resonating in his ears.

“You know what I said to this? That I’m going to wait. That I’m gonna grow up real big and strong and if she doesn’t mind the waiting.”

“You really were hopeless,” Shimada shook his head, trying his best not to grin.

“Shut up!” Jesse nudged him, continuing his story. “She said  _ okay, you little charmer, but wouldn’t you fall for someone else along the way?  _ I instantly contradicted. In good conscience, I promised her not to fall in love with anybody else until I’m old enough for her. As long as she was willing to wait for me, of course.”

“What a devotion, Jesse,” Hanzo noted with a bit mocking tone.

McCree ignored that remark.

“In the end, I think I won’t be able to keep that promise,” he sighed, his gaze wandering all over the creek.

“How’s that?”

“Because I’ve met you,” Jesse turned to face Hanzo, his sight now fixed on him.

He seemed taken aback, eyes wide and full of doubts.

“I  _ meant  _ what I said back then, Han. I still do,” McCree made a small step forward, his fingers intertwined in front of his chest. “Maybe the time was wrong, maybe I should have said it another way, I don’t know. The thing is… I…”

His tongue suddenly felt heavy, eyes focused on the ground and tips of ears turning red as he was trying to articulate his thoughts.

“I’m totally okay if you don’t feel the same way. Hell, I’m fine with  _ whatever _ you’re thinking and feeling about me, Han. I’ve taken you here because I wanted to make everything clear. On how I feel and all,” he cleared his throat, one hand wandering on the back of his neck. “I’m not asking you to stay my friend if you don’t want to. Just…”

Jesse took a deep breath, using all of his courage to lift his gaze back at Hanzo.

_ “Hey, what's going on with you and me? _ ” he asked, singsong.

At this point, everything was up to Hanzo. All of the things he intended to say, had been said. More or less accurately to what he had imagined in his head, but still.

Shimada’s expression was unreadable to say the least. Jesse could not tell whether his friend internally dwelled on that little speech, his own feelings or something entirely else. The fact he looked so  _ stoically  _ calm wasn’t helping McCree with trying to maintain his own composure, too.

Then, when he was about to remark that conversation is usually an exchange of words between people, something happened.

At first, he didn’t register what was actually going on but when he did, he felt utterly  _ dazed. _

The sudden closeness of Hanzo, the subtle scent of sweat and jasmine and the sensation of his lips,  _ oh dear God.  _ The kiss was chaste, almost non existent, and yet  _ it took place. _

Hanzo. Kissed. Him

_ Hanzo. Kissed. Him. _

_ For the love of God, Jesus and Holy Spirit. _

_ For Mary and all of the Saints in Heaven. _

_ HANZO. KISSED. HIM. _

Jesse needed to make a step back to prevent himself from miserable fall but… A small rock slipped from underneath his feet, balance irretrievably lost and his whole body hitting the water mirror.

He ended up shocked, wet and somewhat vulnerable. Hanzo’s soft laugh, however, made up for it. About ten times, to be precise.

Eventually, with a bit of a help McCree stood up, water dripping from all over him. It didn’t stop him from beaming though.

“So, uh, we good?”

Hanzo snorted, resting his hands on hips.

“Yeah, you can say so.”

Jesse could not recall the time when he was grinning like that, sun seeming dull and gray when compared with the brightness of that smile. 

He felt powerful. Energetic.  _ Ecstatic. _

“Earth to Jesse, you copy?” Shimada waved a hand in front of his eyes, quick blinking bringing him back to present time.

He looked back at his friend, hair still up in ponytail, pastel blue t-shirt slightly blowing on the wind. A familiar sting of fondness popped out somewhere in his guts, warmness spreading all over him.

“I know it’s sudden but would you like to come over?” He spluttered, ear tips coloring red again.

Hanzo flushed a bit, looking away and hands wringing.

“...Sure.”

His tentative smile was enough to make Jesse’s heart skip a beat.

Ultimately, he nudged Shimada and got them going, purposefully taking a longer route through the forest.

The weather was amiable, rays of sun breaking through layers of leaves and creating wagging mosaics all over the ground. Somewhere along the way his hand wandered down and brushed Hanzo’s and… Well, it didn’t take long for them to be intertwined, all awkwardness soon gone.

They felt careless, dangling their hands, snickering and horsing around as if they were ten, nothing in the world able to ruin their mood. 

 

 

Hanzo had to call home to say he was staying over and, as far as Jesse could tell, his parents didn’t seem content with that.

“That’s funny but I don’t really care, you know?” He shrugged, mischievous smile playing on his features. 

“You sure you ain’t in troubles?”

“When I was three,” he started, leaning on the doorframe to the kitchen. “My brother was born and my whole world kind of crushed.”

“You have a bro?” Jesse raised his eyebrows, eyes slightly wide.

“Yeah. Attending The Hill in Pennsylvania. I don’t see him much nowadays,” McCree whistled as Hanzo rolled his eyes. “The point is that he’s the beloved child. He can get away with everything. Meanwhile, I play the role of that responsible firstborn, maintaining a good family name my only goal in life.”

His voice sounded bitter and distant. As if he was quoting someone and didn’t omit to add a bit irony to it.

“I’m a bit fed up with it, you know?”

“I bet, Han,” he offered a reassuring smile, his hand idly wandering to Hano’s one. “That ain’t fair.”

“I know,” he took Jesse’s hand, squeezing it gently. “And that’s why I don’t give a single fuck about what they think of me staying here. I feel I deserve something more from life.”

“That sounds selfish but--” He leaned across a bit, kissing Hanzo’s forehead. “I ain’t arguing with that.”

Shimada snorted, nudging him slightly, their hands still intertwined.

“I can’t believe how  _ cheesy  _ you are, Jesse.”

“Speaking of cheese,” he suddenly hopped to the cabin, pulling a pack of cheese curls out of it. “Want some?”

A hearty laugh was his answer, quick nod appearing after a while. He also took some drinks from the fridge, hands now full of necessities for tonight.

He headed upstairs, Hanzo silently following him. Mild curiosity was probably growing inside of him since Jesse remained silent about his plans. He did not intend to keep them secret forever, though. 

Without a word he dispensed food on the already crowded desk, kneeling down beside bed and frantically looking for that one specific thing. When he found it, he put it on the windowsill and only then looked at his guest, the expectancy painted all over his face.

“If we were down in the living room, I’d say you’ve planned on watching movies and snuggling but here? I’m out of ideas,” Hanzo eventually said, throwing his hands up.

McCree grinned, hooking his arm around the other one’s shoulders.

“How much do you know about astronomy?”

 

 

The night was exceptionally chill, cold breeze tickling their noses and ears. Jesse wouldn’t call it an unpleasant feeling, though. His and Hanzo’s body remained warm thanks to thick blanket and sharing body heat in general, some cool balancing the sensation.

Besides, it meant perfect visibility of a night sky, all of the stars twinkling invitingly and promising them something… ethereal. Distant. Undoubtedly beautiful.

In the end, Hanzo wasn’t that much wrong about watching things and snuggling. The object of their looking differed, yes, but idea remained basically the same.

At first, he worried about them falling from the windowsill but soon enough did he give up his concerns, cuddling up more and resting his head on Jesse’s shoulder. McCree couldn’t stop himself from fondly smiling at that, softly rubbing his thumb over his crush’s hand at the same time.

He hoped Hanzo enjoyed that moment as much as he did, nothing but them and stars above in the world.

Judging by that sudden chaste kiss to the cheek, he did.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for McHanzo BigBang and therefore, an amazing [artidoodles](http://artidoodles.tumblr.com/) created some art to it! It can be found here:  
> https://artidoodles.tumblr.com/post/172313515051/jesse-shut-up-holding-onto-hanzos-neck-securing  
>  
> 
> Songs in this fic:  
> \- Another One Bites The Dust // Queen  
> \- Come And Get Your Love // Redbone  
> \- Spirit In The Sky // Norman Greenbaum  
> \- Can't Help Falling In Love // Elvis Presley  
> \- Love In Vain // Foreigner
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks ♡  
> You can also find me on [tumblr](http://ee-void.tumblr.com/)!


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